


Dolci

by myrthrilmercury



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Covert Hand Jobs, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, HEY GUYS I JUST CAME UP WITH A NEW TAG!, In Public, M/M, Prompt Fill, Public Hand Jobs, Restaurants, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, The Author Regrets Nothing, Under the Table
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 03:42:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13802679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrthrilmercury/pseuds/myrthrilmercury
Summary: Tanger just can't wait until they get home.





	Dolci

**Author's Note:**

> Done for the February character and kink prompts for Pens Monthly. Kind of skirting the edge here, but I guess it counts as public sex, if you squint.
> 
> Also, I had _way_ too much fun writing this. XD

One could be forgiven for thinking that Sid would want to celebrate his 400th career goal with a huge party or group outing.

Apparently, he was having none of that.

Knowing Sid, it was only natural that he’d want the celebration to be small and intimate. But Brian had assumed Sid would want it to be just him and Geno. He was surprised that he and Kris had been invited to the Capital Grille as well.

When he thought about it some more, it made sense that Sid would want Kris there. If Flower, Duper, and Kuni were still around, he would want them there, too. They’d all been together for so long.

Which made Brian feel even more like he didn’t belong there. Kris wanted him there for a double date. But with the bond between Sid, Geno, and Kris, he just felt like a spare tire for a tricycle.

Maybe there was something to this whole double date thing. After all, Brian and Kris hadn’t been able to go out on their own for some time. Also, the wedge salad Brian was currently polishing off was better than the crap he’d been eating on the road.

Brian felt something brush over his right knee. Perhaps he needed to move away from the tablecloth. 

He immediately realized it hadn’t been the tablecloth once the sensation began traveling up his right thigh.

Brian turned his head to the right and looked at Kris. Kris was nonchalantly eating his French onion soup, acting like Brian wasn’t squirming right next to him.

Only one of Kris’ hands was visible. Sure enough, when Brian glanced down towards his lap, Kris’ left arm was partially under the tablecloth and hovering over Brian’s right leg.

Kris’ hand temporarily returned to Brian’s knee before the fingers curled and the nails dug into his pant leg. Each nail ever so slowly scratched its way up Brian’s thigh, making chewing rather difficult.

At least that was the last of his salad and there was no longer a choking risk. But what the hell was Kris doing, out in public and with Sid and Geno sitting on the other side of the booth?

Not that they had any clue what was going on. Sid rested his elbows on the table and propped his head in his hands as he listened attentively to the story Geno had told eight million times about Ovi falling off a boat when they went on a fishing trip off the Florida Keys several years prior. Brian never understood just how Sid could laugh so hard every single time he heard it, but then again, he may have found it funnier had he actually been there. Besides, he had to admit to himself that he _did_ want to see Ovi fall headfirst off a boat. 

Then again, this time was different. He’d never had an insistent hand pushing aside the napkin on his lap before sliding between his thighs.

Brian glared a warning at Kris, who simply smiled mischievously before raising his wine glass and turning back towards Sid and Geno as he took a long swig. Kris didn’t even withdraw his hand when the waitress came by to clear their table.

Maybe if Brian acted like he wasn’t paying attention, Kris would stop. “Did you two ever go on any more fishing trips after that?”

Geno nodded. “Ice fishing once.”

“Catch anything?” Somehow, Sid and Geno didn’t realize anything was unusual when Kris turned towards Brian and slipped both of his hands under the tablecloth, making short work of the button on Brian’s dress pants before pivoting to face the others again and resting both hands on the table for a brief moment before the insistent left hand began pulling down the zipper.

“Nothing.” Geno then began rambling on about he and Ovi getting lost on the way, being unable to break holes in the ice (much to Sid’s amusement), and saying something about the bait freezing. Brian wasn’t able to catch it all since it was getting much harder to focus. There was no way he could listen attentively now, even when this was a new story for a change.

Not when Kris’ hand had slipped into his pants and was now massaging him over his briefs, coaxing him to full attention.

Thankfully, Sid and Geno were now far too distracted to even look at Brian and Kris. Sid was in utter disbelief that Geno and Ovi could be so clueless about ice fishing and dove headfirst into a lecture on tying a nylon rope for a DIY ice breaking tool. Geno didn’t seem to think a special tool was necessary and was making his feelings known. 

Brian didn’t know what they were going on about, and at this point, he didn’t care. He was just trying to keep a straight face and act normally, which was becoming a taller order by the second.

Because Brian was hard, fucking _hard,_ and Kris wasn’t moving his hands or fingers anywhere near as quickly or firmly as he knew Brian needed him to. Kris was drawing this out as long as possible; cruelly and deliberately easing up and slowing down whenever Brian’s cock twitched.

The waitress was blissfully unaware of what was going on a few feet underneath her as she brought out their entrees. Kris had both hands on the table as he graciously accepted and began cutting into his ribeye.

Previously, Brian would have been grateful for the interruption. But now, chagrin flared through him as Kris hung him out to dry. The absence of Kris’ hand was palpable as Brian forced himself to start on his swordfish; now that he was unfulfilled and no longer starving.

Brian scanned the table and the room as he forced several forkfuls down his throat, hyperaware of his vexation as the drone of voices warbled around him. It was unclear whether it was from Brian’s altered state of mind or the bottle of merlot that Sid and Geno had finished, but their side of the table had become quite animated. Geno was still immersed in his story. For all Brian knew, Geno could be narrating the Siberian version of _Weekend at Bernie’s._ He just needed Kris to start jerking his cock again.

When Kris continued to ignore him despite the precome dripping down onto his balls, Brian reached for a spoonful of the au gratin potatoes. 

The very moment that the spoon hovered precariously over the edge of Brian’s plate and the pristine ivory tablecloth was the moment that Kris shoved his hand down Brian’s briefs and pushed the waistband down, releasing Brian’s cock from the confines of the material before ever so slightly brushing his thumb across the slit. 

The sensation sent a jolt through Brian that made his arm tremble, causing him to loudly splatter the spoonful all over the tablecloth. Sid and Geno stopped yapping long enough to stare dumbfounded at the mess. Brian’s eyes darted over to Kris, who simply smiled as he wrapped all of his fingers around Brian’s shaft, painting the canvas of his skin with his own precome.

“…My bad.” This time, Brian was able to maintain his fine motor skills despite the ever-so-slight movements of Kris’ hand, which was finally pressing down more firmly, but still moving at a maddeningly slow pace. 

Sid and Geno went right back to their conversation the moment Brian wolfed down a forkful of potatoes. Brian caught the beginning of Sid’s lecture about bait before Kris corkscrewed his hand from base to tip a few times, nearly causing Brian to choke as he felt his cock twitch once more. If Kris kept this up, Brian would come before the check did.

Kris was apparently well aware of this, as he removed his hand and wiped it on the napkin in his own lap before returning it to the table and flashing Brian a quick grin before returning to his ribeye.

What the fuck was Kris doing? Was this some way of staking his claim? It wasn’t like Kris needed to mark his territory. But apparently he wanted Brian to beg for it. 

Brian’s pleading eyes had no effect on Kris, who only chuckled in response before finishing his creamed spinach. Maybe Brian needed to clean his plate, too?

Apparently this had been the trick all along. Brian was rewarded with a firm tug on his cock the moment he returned to his swordfish. 

So, it was a game, then. Brian wasn’t exactly a willing participant, but he was powerless to fight the erotic delirium clawing at his insides and eating away at his mind. It was taking everything he had not to wolf down the contents of his plate as Kris calmly and casually ate his own entrée, as if he weren’t driving Brian to the brink of madness with every passing moment. 

Somehow, he managed not to choke on every bite as the drone of Sid and Geno’s voices faded away while the pressure built up inside of him. It was also baffling how those two could manage to eat in between the wild gestures and talking louder and louder over one another the more passionate they got about their sides of the conversation, which was apparently really serious business. At this point, Brian and Kris could fuck on the table and those two wouldn’t even notice.

The tablecloth provided enough cover, which was a small comfort. None of the other restaurant patrons would notice. If there was one person who could notice, it was the waitress…who was now clearing the plates. Brian froze in terror the moment he noticed her presence. 

Fortunately, she had no idea what was happening beneath her gaze. “Would you care for any dessert?”

All Brian wanted was to get the fuck out of there with his dignity intact, but Kris ordered the crème brûlée, so they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. Of course Sid and Geno accepted. Asking Sid if he wanted dessert was akin to asking whether the Pope was Catholic. 

The more he became undone, the more important it was for Brian to try to act as if everything were normal. “I’ll have the chocolate cake.”

It was bad enough that he was already maniacal with lust, but now Brian could barely sit still. It was a small victory every time he managed not to buck his hips towards the motionless hand in a futile attempt to get it to move. Kris kept Brian’s fire alive; occasionally twisting his palm around the head during the long, torturous interval from when the waitress left to when she finally returned with their desserts in tow.

Geno ignored his espresso cake for a few moments as he eyed Sid derisively for a few moments and grinned. “Of course Sid get cheesecake.”

“What, you expected me to get something else?” Sid inquired with a shrug. 

Geno paused for a few moments before picking up Sid’s fork and digging into the cheesecake on Sid’s plate.

Sid drew back in surprise, eyes wide as he began to object. “Hey, what are you—”

Geno held the fork and its accompanying sliver of cheesecake in midair. “Say ahh.”

Sid gawked at Geno for a few seconds before giving up and opening his mouth. “Ahh.” Sure enough, Geno raised the fork to Sid’s mouth and fed him its contents.

Yep. _Now_ Brian had seen everything.

Sid snatched back his fork from Geno before stealing the fork next to Geno’s plate and grabbing a small chunk of espresso cake. “Say ahh.” Geno obliged Sid before reclaiming his fork with one hand and ruffling the other through Sid’s hair, messing it up.

“Uh…” Brian turned towards Kris. “How long have they been together?”

“Almost nine years,” Sid replied between bites of his cheesecake. Geno simply nodded in agreement, as his mouth was full.

“Old marrieds,” Kris remarked before swiping Brian’s fork and picking up a slice of chocolate cake. “Say ahh.”

“No.”

Kris continued to hold the fork in midair as he withdrew his other hand from Brian’s cock. 

_Seriously?_ Brian would have given Kris an earful had he not been close and aching for release. He had no choice but to play along. “Ahh.” He held his mouth open as Kris smiled lasciviously before feeding him the cake and not putting his left hand back where Brian needed it until the cake was safely in Brian’s mouth. Kris had _that_ smile on his face now, the smug and satisfied look he always had whenever he knew he had Brian by the balls (quite literally, in this case.)

Nope, Brian wasn’t getting all cutesy and feeding Kris. He couldn’t grab his fork back fast enough when Kris handed it over to him. He knew how this worked.

Kris acted casually in front of Sid and Geno, focusing intently on his crème brûlée in front of them. Kris was like a small lake: calm on the surface, but tumultuous underneath the shallows; jerking Brian ferociously with every bite they both took.

Sid and Geno wouldn’t notice even if they deigned to look across the table. They were too busy wondering what had happened to the couch Sid had to throw out after his Super Bowl party. Somehow, it had broken in the middle, which Brian attributed to it having been in Sid’s house with teammates all over it for seven years. 

But apparently Sid was blaming one person in particular, since he was eyeing Geno intently. “You were always in that exact spot in the couch since day one. It’s because you spent all that time on it.”

“Excuse me?” Geno replied with a raised eyebrow. “I’m believe we _both_ spent plenty of time on couch?”

“That doesn’t sound comfortable,” Kris chimed in.

Geno shrugged. “More comfortable than diving board.”

“Diving board?” Kris repeated with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

Geno nodded. “Know how diving board wobble on own when you push against enough? Sid thought maybe if—”

 _“That’s enough!”_ Sid hissed through gritted teeth, clenching his fists in chagrin. 

“What? Just trying to help other couple.”

Sid propped his elbows on the table and buried his bright red face in his hands. “I think they can figure everything out themselves.”

As if to emphasize Sid’s point, that was the moment that Kris returned his hand to the base before sharply twisting his wrist with one rapid movement to the tip as he clinched his fingers and pulled.

Brian clamped down on his fork, clenching his teeth against the metal as he rode out the waves of his orgasm. It was a miracle that he didn’t get the last piece of cake stuck in his throat. He seized his glass and gulped down the rest of his Riesling as he became acutely aware of the sticky mess on his stomach. Hopefully he hadn’t gotten any on his pants. Also, he would be leaving a very large tip behind for whomever had to clean the napkins and tablecloth.

Apparently it was now well past time to go home, since now Sid and Geno were not only giggly and making eyes at one another, but starting to get handsy as well. Either it was Exhibitionism Day and nobody informed Brian about it, or someone had drugged the dipping oil that came with the bread.

“Can I get you anything else?”

Brian almost jumped out of his skin upon hearing the question. Either the waitress was a ninja and had snuck up on them, or he had been completely oblivious to her arrival. What he _did_ see was Geno whispering something that had to be extremely dirty in Sid’s ear, because Sid had once again turned bright red. Kris was grinning like the cat who had eaten the canary and judging by the look in his eyes, wanted Brian to return the favor at some point. Brian was also acutely aware that the mess he'd left was starting to dry up and become uncomfortable.

“No.” Brian shook his head. “Just our check, please.”


End file.
